It was my birthday. I hate my birthday. I hate the reminder that I'm getting old. My husband? He loves my birthday. He's exactly 9 months and three days younger than me, so yeah, he loves to tease me about getting older. I love him, but sometimes...

He called me and told me he had a surprise waiting for me. I'd assume he'd have a surprise. It was my birthday. He also loves to treat me. What can I say? I've got a great husband.

I drove home in record time. I wanted to know what that surprise was. I walked in the door and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the normal and no one jumped out from behind the furniture to shout surprise.

"Jack?"

He stepped around the corner. He'd worn the blue shirt I'd bought him for Christmas. I loved the way the soft cotton hugged his muscular frame. He grinned. "Look on the table."

I made my way into the dining room. On the table sat a cake. White frosting, whipped cream piped on top with strawberries and candles. He'd made me a birthday cake. Nice.

"This is nice. I love strawberries."

He handed me a folded up piece of paper, then walked away before I could ask him about the note. He used to send me little notes and leave me pieces of paper when we were first married, but not lately. I opened the blank card.

Chocolate and whipped cream to cool you down, but the wax will definitely heat you up. Meet me in the bedroom. I'll bring the handcuffs. You bring the cake. Let's make this birthday celebration one for the record books.

My hands shook. We hadn't done any wax play in a while. My skin tingled. I could almost feel the hot liquid running down my back and over my breasts. Hot damn. I picked up the cake. Time to make a night we'd never forget.